


rumors heard by...

by kakashika



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angel Devil, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst, Angst and Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Light Angst, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakashika/pseuds/kakashika
Summary: wrapped in curiosity and fear, you went to speak to  god, exposing all your doubts, seeking a little clarity in your angelic  life; however, the solution that god offered you was beyond your  imagination, a new mission to be delivered to you disguised as an answer.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	rumors heard by...

**RUMORS HEARD BY _THE ANGEL_ : in which the angel receives a new mission.**

Heaven was composed of hundreds of celestial beings, small and so magnificent and diverse creatures to embellish without effort the eternity of the most kind. However, of all creatures, the one who always stood out, the one who was always famous, was _the angel_.

Everyone knew that to be an angel, to be worthy to have two and so beautiful white wings, one had to be, above all, _beautiful_. Of course, beauty is a subjective matter, different perspectives shaping the meaning of the word itself; but the reality is that, in the heavenly world, to be beautiful it was enough to be _pure_. In the celestial world, where the white color ruled all beings present in paradise, the purity and innocence of that vivid color dictated all laws and, as such, it was only natural for all celestials to be pure of heart. And, among so many candidates and so many angels, the purest creature of them all was, without a doubt, _Akaashi Keiji_.

There was no soul who knew the origins of that angel or why he was considered the purest creature of all; but everyone knew the reality that involved Akaashi: of all the angels, he was the one who had the most beautiful wings; so big and extensive were the extremely soft feathers that made all creatures want to run their hands over them; the crown assigned to Akaashi, the small white daisies and gardenias, offered an extreme shine to Akaashi's black hair, the contrast between the two colors to mesmerize so many creatures; the angel's eyes were already tired by nature, showing that that celestial being had already seen a lot, had already seen all the purest and darkest natures of humanity. All of this and much more made Akaashi Keiji the most beautiful celestial being in the universe; after all, Akaashi did not only have an interior that streaked white and yellow light, welcoming any being who spoke to him; Akaashi Keiji also possessed unparalleled physical beauty, hair and eyes, hands and lips, wings and words. Everything about Akaashi Keiji was, in fact, beautiful.

However, it was not only the singular beauty of that angel that made the celestial being someone of respect or admiration: what really distinguished Akaashi Keiji from all angels and creatures was the choice of pronouns he had decided to use; choosing something as banal as a genre, the rest of Akaashi's colleagues started to treat _him_ with respect, started to congratulate _him_ , to envy _him_. Akaashi Keiji was, in fact, one of the few angels to choose a genre, his decision so rare to be moved by the altruism of _his_ heart, the hope of facilitating several conversations and missions to show the purity of Akaashi's heart, making _him_ the best angel in the heavenly world. And, being Akaashi the best angel in the celestial world, it was only natural for God to constantly recruit him for the most important and cherished missions by the sovereign, Akaashi's entire curriculum to be filled with successes in guidance and advice missions, his only failure to be painted black on one of the smallest feathers on his right wing.

For, in the celestial world, _the missions of one dictated his wings_.

God did not like to forgive as often as we believe, as he once did; after being betrayed time and time again, God lost confidence in his companions, his generosity so characteristic of him being only exclusive for some, for few, for those who showed themselves worthy of his trust. Thus, God liked to discipline angels for their vanity. When staining their wings with a black oil, the feathers became fatiguing, the weight of failure making them so heavy that, if they were not compensated in the following jobs, they would eventually fall; however, and if one were successful in his mission, the feathers were extremely white once again, the lightness of them increasing their softness, the forgiveness to be won one feather at a time, the vanity of the angels losing importance after recovering its purity.

In fact, Akaashi had only one small black feather, so small that it was practically impossible to see; but Akaashi knew that it existed and knew that if he did not make up for it, he would lose one of the feathers that he cherished so much. As such, and determined to show God that he was still capable of accepting missions and erasing his failure, Akaashi knocked lightly on the brown door in front of him, waiting patiently for God's voice to come from the other side.

“You can come in,” God spoke monotonously, tired of that long and exhausting day, wishing he could retire to his quarters and rest at last; after God's permission, a long, drawn-out sigh greeted Akaashi as soon as he entered, the despair of God's work to be enveloped in grief and tiredness; and Akaashi shuddered –he had not expected to find God in such a bad mood. “Oh, Keiji. Do you need something?”

The golden and shining eyes of God quickly found the beautiful figure of Akaashi, the smile on the lips of the superior to be formed from the moment he pronounced the name of his favorite angel. Akaashi had already been in that office enough times to know that loving greeting from God was his way of allowing Akaashi to actually enter the office –and he did so. With uncertain and calculating steps, Akaashi carefully stepped on the red carpet in the office, his eyes always fixed on the chair he had to occupy; in a few minutes, Akaashi would sit carefully in the chair, composing his beautiful wings so as not to deform them, and, when he was already comfortable in that wooden seat, he waited for God to speak to him. God must _always_ have the first word.

“So? To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” there was a certain tension between God and Akaashi; there was _always_ tension between him and God, as long as the angel remembered, and what worried Akaashi was that he couldn't say whether the tension was something negative or whether it was due to the fact that God respected Akaashi as he had never respected anyone.

There was a brief moment of silence, full of doubts on the part of Akaashi, the curiosity growing slowly in God who, not being able to endure that endless wait, released a new smile, a smile that carried with it the impatience he felt. And Akaashi shuddered. As soon as that curved line formed on his superior's lips, Akaashi shuddered, feeling obliged to speak, the angel taking a deep breath in an attempt to gather all the forces that had abandoned him from the moment he entered the office. The angel swallowed, looking for the right words in his mind and, adjusting his right wing, Akaashi spoke:

“I wanted to make up for the failure of the mission that stained my feather.”

God allowed Akaashi's request to hang in the air like angel feathers, the lightness of Akaashi's words to be transported to a universe far from theirs, Akaashi's eyes not being able to face God, the superior hoping that Akaashi's speech came to an end. But how could the angel finish his reasoning when he himself did not know what to do?

The reality is that _rumors were heard by Akaashi_.

During his time in the celestial world, there were several rumors running through the halls of the grand palace, the whispers of the various angels and archangels becoming so common that one thought they were true stories. Rumors were told in laughter and whispering, some more detailed than others, the sweet and bitter words that slipped through the lips of the various celestials carrying lives and hopes, destroying reputations and goals. In fact, rumors in the celestial world were something that ran all over the place; although no malice was found in the pronunciation of the immense words, the reality is that all the consequences that these simple rumors could have were inevitable. And that was why Akaashi avoided them at all costs; after all, Akaashi was _the best_ angel in the celestial world. However, there was a rumor that seemed to entice Akaashi, the devil's own hand driving the various words to the angel's ears whenever the subject was mentioned by others.

Because, quite simply, Akaashi could not ignore rumors about the _wings of angel_ s.

Akaashi has always taken a special liking to the various wings that existed, admiring the different shapes and sizes, the textures of the feathers and how they changed according to a mission. The wings were always something that intrigued Akaashi. Yes, the angel was always amazed by the various wings that were found in the celestial world; so it was only natural for him to hear the various rumors that alluded to that topic so delicate and smooth. Several rumors had been heard by Akaashi, all of them carefully considered, in an attempt to understand the complexity of those gossips, trying to discover which ones were true and which were the most absurd. However, the reality is that in a world where everything has to be true, it was quite complicated to find something that was a lie.

Thus, Akaashi has always feared.

There were several rumors that he heard, true, but most of them were loaded with a negativity that should not be so simple to be pronounced by celestial beings. Akaashi has always lived in the illusion that the wings of angels were _guaranteed_ , something that one would gain once he reached heaven and proved his worth to God; however, and with so many rumors running through the angel's ears, Akaashi began to appreciate his wings more, caressing his feathers three hours a day, washing them with precision and care, his most precious asset being those two gifts offered for God.

“Is the black feather bothering you?”

No reply.

No reaction.

Of course, the feather was bothering Akaashi. Spending a life immersed in the purity of white, having a small black spot that carried malice with it was all that bothered that angel. Akaashi sighed, unable to find more courage to speak, hoping that God would be the same as always and continue his thought out loud, giving Akaashi a little opening to finally speak.

“Why does it bother you so much? You are not the only one with only a dark feather,” God smiled, as if finding the whole situation amusing, as if delighting in Akaashi's concern.

And the angel knew. The angel knew that he was not the only one who carried with him the consequences of missions carried out poorly, he knew that there were many angels and archangels who showed with vanity the beauty of all their feathers so that all those who deigned to see would know that they had stories to tell. But Akaashi was not like them. Akaashi was _different_. And, being different, he wanted to keep himself pure, he didn't want to be corrupted by failure and, as such, he was determined to have a mission to make up for that small, shy black feather.

“I heard rumors, Lord,” Akaashi started by speaking quietly, the angel's tired eyes focused only on his superior's table, the various manuscripts and unreadable letters becoming everything Akaashi saw. “And, honestly, they are the ones that bother me more than my feather.”

“What kind of rumors?” God seemed to be genuinely interested in the angel's words, putting down his pen with which he wrote and resting his elbows on the tabletop, while allowing his golden-stained hair to entice Akaashi to look at him. As soon as the shine and smell of God's hair became so intense, the angel could no longer refuse, Akaashi stared at God, losing himself briefly in his superior's intense eyes, falling into the charms they counted on each wink. “Keiji?”

“Rumors of…”

Should Akaashi tell his superior the truth? What if the reality of all the rumors he heard were just that? Mere rumors that had _no real basis_? But, then again, there was a small part of Akaashi who believed these rumors, who wanted to know the truth about them, and that little black feather enticed Akaashi's lips to utter the question that had long lodged in the angel's throat.

“What happens when an angel has its wings all painted black?”

“Is that what worries you?” the laughter that God gave was loud and melodious, the echo of the amusement felt by the superior resonating loudly in his office, bringing a little comfort in that big room. “I doubt that you will let your wings become contaminated.”

“But _what happens?_ ” Akaashi's insistence was unusual in the angel; after all, Akaashi had never let his curiosity and fear tarnish his purity. That is, until he finally won a _black feather_.

The silence that followed was different, fraught with doubts on both sides. God's eyes showed a little concern in his intense glow, the smile that he always wore at all times to fade as soon as Akaashi's insistence was felt in the angel's inappropriate words. The wait that existed to know who would be the next to speak seemed endless, neither of them wanting to take the first step to reestablish the conversation. In fact, a long time has passed since Akaashi's last words hovered in the air, God looking at him closely, Akaashi looking away from the figure of God, totally consumed by the shame of his actions – _Akaashi shouldn't have asked that_.

“Keiji, let me ask you something,” God carefully dragged his chair just enough to have room to get out, his feet lightly treading the office carpet as he walked to the golden shelf, the shelf that was destined for the most complicated missions, for missions that were only entrusted to the best angels of all. “You have been here for a few centuries, I'm sure you've seen a lot. Both in our world and in the ancient world. So, let me ask you this… Have you ever seen an angel with _totally_ black wings?”

God's question was dragged by the turning of pages of the book he held, the wind of God's delicate movement dragging the question calmly and patiently to Akaashi's ears. As soon as the angel heard the words, as soon as he processed what God asked him, Akaashi realized that, in fact, he had never seen anyone with totally black wings. Yes, he could have seen great black-spotted wings, but some purity and innocence of the white of the angels could always contrast quickly on those wings, no celestial being wearing totally black wings in that world.

“I deduce that, by your silence, your answer will be negative,” God again adopted that smile so characteristic of him, the various meanings of that simple curved line to still need to be unveiled. “I confess that I am not the best soul to answer you, Keiji. So, I think this mission will be useful for you. For your curiosity. And, if you're lucky, _who knows_ , maybe for your feathers as well.”

When God held out a single sheet of paper, Akaashi realized that a new mission was being assigned to him and, consequently, a new opportunity. As such, and determined not to screw up that time, Akaashi grabbed the sheet of paper, decoding some letters where the ink was still drying, quickly discovering that it was a mission written by God in that short time while the superior hoped that the angel answered him. However, it was not the speed with which God did the mission that surprised Akaashi. No. What most caught the attention of the angel were the small and detailed letters that formed the name of the being that Akaashi should protect and guide, those five letters connection perfectly on the white paper, forming a single and powerful word.

“My Lord, it must be some mistake, for…” Akaashi did not want to believe what his eyes read over and over again, the name of the creature insisting on being read by Akaashi, stealing his voice and his concentration.

“There is no mistake, Keiji,” and there was God's smile once again, as he watched his pupil read the name of his new mission over and over again. “Your new mission is to be the _guardian angel of the devil_.”

And, in fact, it was no mistake. Akaashi's descent into the lost world was long and fearful, as many doubts as fears arising in Akaashi without the angel's permission, a fear that his stay would become more and more overwhelming with each step closer to his destination.

The underworld was, in reality, something entirely different from the celestial world and Akaashi was not at all comfortable in it; to begin with, the angel had to hide his beautiful wings, refusing to dye them black for fear that they would remain dark; around him, darkness and obscurity tried to tarnish Akaashi's purity, enticing him to the darker side of the universe, trying to pull him into that dark and cold world. The angel looked around, the lack of beings intriguing him, the atmosphere differentiating himself from the celestial world in all aspects.

How was Akaashi supposed to endure six months in that world?

“Are you lost?” Your soft laugh echoed in that cave, a shiver taking over the angel when the echo amplified the malice hidden in your innocent question. Akaashi looked at his side, seeing you with a smile on your face, a little uncertainty to be brought in your intense look. Akaashi stared at you, his tired eyes admiring your figure, wondering how someone as beautiful as you could be in that place so black and wicked. “You are new here, is that it? Well, welcome to _my_ kingdom!”

 _Your_ kingdom?

Akaashi opened his mouth gently when he looked at you better, the darkness of the cave shining now with a little light that the full moon provided at that moment and that's when Akaashi really saw: wicked smile on your lips, red eyes shining with malice, small and curved horns coming out of your head showing your wickedness and denouncing that you were, in fact...

“The devil…” Akaashi's sigh quickly evaporated in the darkness of the underworld, the coldness of that atmosphere quickly freezing the angel's realization, not making it walk far from you and him. Akaashi didn't want to believe it. He knew that the underworld was laden with malicious and dangerous souls, people who strayed from the path of goodness, angels who betrayed God; but Akaashi never expected to find a figure as beautiful as yours, something different in you pulling Akaashi more and more towards the malicious ways of the world, the darkness that existed around him concentrating only on you, on your beautiful figure, on your wicked smile, on your cursed essence.

When you heard your name, you expanded the smile, your eyes taking on a new and mysterious glow, your lips pronouncing with care, sensuality and persuasively words that fled quickly from your mouth, traveling all over your world, making all the inhabitants of your kingdom tremble:

“In the flesh.”

* * *

**RUMORS HEARD BY _THE DEVIL_ : in which the devil cries.**

The first time you came to the underworld, there was _nothing_. An overwhelming darkness covered the entire length of that place, no light, plant or being deigned to take root in that soulless place. The first time you came to the underworld, there was _nothing_. You were lost, your body still very shaky from the fall you suffered, your eyes still burning with the disloyalty you suffered, your head filling with unknown voices, voices that shouldn't be there. The first time you came to the underworld, there was _nothing_. So, taken by the anger that consumed you and the feeling of betrayal, you decided to act.

The start was not easy.

You didn't know what to do, let alone how to do it. It had been several days of watching the ancient world, waiting patiently, looking for ways and ways to get some company –oh, but how the angels were doing a fantastic job of guiding the various lost souls. But the loneliness became desperate at that moment, the voices were loud and urging you to act, to do something for you once in your existence. And, since you never had a way to rebel, you decided to follow the orders of the voices within you. Your voice started to sound like a melody in the ears of various people, encouraging them to disobey their angels, intriguing them with your company, taking them along dark and dead-end paths. And, little by little, with the refusal of God for the bad paths they traveled, you decided to welcome the abandoned souls, building a _small kingdom of your own_ ; a small kingdom that has been expanding over the centuries, a need of not feeling alone calling so many people.

But it was never enough.

For some reason, it didn't matter how many corrupted souls you harbored; you always felt alone. And, being corrupted by the feeling of loneliness and betrayal, your kind nature was destroyed by the shadows of your new kingdom, the darkness of the underworld hiding all your good and bright memories, leaving you with only the anger of a betrayal that you would never forgive _or understand_.

“What is your name?” in addition to managing that new kingdom of yours, one of your various jobs was to guide lost souls in the underworld, giving them shelter and occupation, knowing perfectly well that an eternity could become boring if it were not occupied with a good hobby.

You guided the newcomer through the turbulent paths of the underworld, your eyes always on the lookout for all the activity that was going on, trying to figure out if anything was off-site, or if someone needed something – _maybe_ there was still a little kindness in the midst of your destruction. The girl did not speak, shy to be in the presence of the devil, frightened to be away from her relatives and friends; it was a premature harvest, in fact, but it was necessary for the existence of that little soul, since, if it spread its existence in the ancient world, the result could be much worse.

“You are not alone here. I guarantee you that at least one member of your family is also here.”

You stopped your step and stared at her. Since you were ruling that kingdom for centuries, your patience had been corrupted with tremendous ease, not least because none of those souls who wandered around deigned to facilitate your work –not that you were afraid to punish them, you just didn't have time for such. So, it only took one look from you to make the girl speak, her name slipping from her lips amid fear and respect, the smile that appeared on your face to be malicious when you realized that the new soul was, in fact, not alone.

“You helped her.” Akaashi appeared behind you, confusion expressed in the beautiful features of his face, his eyes wandering with some curiosity for that girl's embrace with her aunt.

“Shouldn’t I?” you laughed a little, moving away from that tender scene and following your way to your office –there was so much work pending.

“It’s just…”

“It’s just you thought I was a heartless creature who just wants to see disorder in this world and in the old,” Akaashi did not reply, walking with you with the step dictated by you, hoping that you would continue to speak, for you would always continue talking. “ _I heard these rumors_. My subordinates insist on telling me everything that involves my name. A soul's imagination goes beyond unreached worlds.”

“So it’s not true? That _rumor_ , as you called it,” Akaashi was feeling strange, completely confused by what happened, wondering for two months now if all the rumors he had heard about that place were, in fact, true.

“Oh, _no_ ,” you laughed and entered your office, a space very similar to what God himself used, your choice of furniture and colors to be made on purpose to provoke the great sovereign. “Yes it is true. But seeing destruction over and over gets quite boring. Every once in a while, a good deed can give you a boost in this world.”

Akaashi's eyes were fixed on your figure from the moment you sat at your desk and, very reluctantly, began to observe all the papers of the various and infinite souls that still roamed the ancient world, carefully reading their entire journey, mentally asking yourself who should visit you and when they should do it. As much as you wanted to deny it, and even though you were already used to that mission of yours, there was always discomfort in you when it came the time to choose the next souls to be reaped; at first it seemed to be easier, your loneliness and hatred constantly guiding your bad actions –but now everything has changed, and you couldn't understand why.

And Akaashi stood watching you, forgetting that his job was to help you choose from those stacks of candidates the less fortunate. However, the reality is that Akaashi was never able to help you, and, still pondering in your words, he found himself less and less able to carry out the obligation that was incurred by you from the moment he arrived in the underworld. Akaashi was, above all, _an angel_ , and, being an angel, it was against his nature to choose the corrupt destiny of whoever, especially of the various souls that roamed the ancient world; but Akaashi just had to fulfill his obligation, his disguise having to remain intact for another four months.

However, at that moment, everything seemed complicated for Akaashi. Seeing you there, so reluctant to choose whoever, hearing you mention kindness with purity embellishing your lips, everything seemed strange to Akaashi. Everything seemed like a lie and he didn't seem to be able to understand what was really going on –at least, he couldn't understand it alone.

“How did you become the devil?”

Akaashi's question had caught you off guard, his words forcing all your movements and attentions to focus only on those simple words, your whole body trembling involuntarily when remembering a past that you just wanted to forget.

“Don't call me that,” you were proud to be the devil, that was true, but seeing a creature as beautiful as Akaashi uttering a word denoted by such hatred and corruption made you feel angry without knowing the reason why. “Devil. Lucifer. Beelzebub. Mephistopheles. None of those names should be pronounced by _you_.”

“Why?” Akaashi wanted to stop being so confused by everything that was going on: his whole existence in the underworld was marked with traces of confusion and struggle –nothing seemed true to him. Akaashi felt that he was living in a lie, that kingdom of yours keeping secrets in all the coldest shadows and corners, no one to be able to clarify the ideas of that angel so devoted to his work, and _to his wings_.

“Because an angel shouldn't be surrounded by corruption, much less verbalize it,” you went back to your work as if nothing happened, your observation taking the angel totally off guard, his lips pronouncing hollow words with no meaning to anyone, no answer to be built by the angel for a while.

“How did you…”

“You said it yourself the first time you saw me, remember?” you lifted your head and stared at him, no smile filling your face, no sparkle beautifying your eyes. “ _I am the devil_. As such, I know everything. Much more than your boss. Much more than you can imagine.”

Akaashi took a deep breath. How should he act? If you knew that he was an angel, surely you also knew what mission he was performing, which meant the failure of his mission, which meant yet _another_ black feather in his repertoire.

“What should I call you then?” no, you couldn’t have known that he was playing the role of your guardian angel; your choice to use Akaashi as your secretary was pure coincidence, the angel was just in the right place at the right time. You _didn't know_ about his mission.

“I was once known as Y/N,” there was a streak of longing stuck in your name, the memories of when you had an identity outside the underworld to torment you from the moment you pronounced that name of yours that hurt you so much.

“What has changed?”

The angel's question hung in the air for a while, you trying to escape that question by focusing on your work, all the letters becoming cloudy when your eyes decided to shine with the longing for your past.

“None of the rumors are true,” you gave a deaf laugh when you remembered the barbarities you had heard about yourself and your story –that's why you started to hate the angels. Living in a perfect world, where everything is guaranteed, none of those celestial creatures knew the cruel reality of existence, none of them knew the truth. However, it seemed that everyone had an opinion to give, rumors roaming the upper realm with tremendous ease, no real basis to support them, no one really wanting to know the truth.

“What rumors?”

“Didn't you hear?” you sighed and let your body relax in the chair, your eyes closed in an attempt to contain all the pain you were feeling at that moment. “That I betrayed God and that is why he expelled me from your world. Or that I made so many mistakes in my missions that my wings all went black, they fell and I ended up falling too. That I'm the first fallen angel. Haven't you heard any of this?”

Akaashi had heard, in fact, all those rumors and many more, the mouths of the various angels to be tainted by the dark stories of the underworld and its sovereign. Akaashi had, in fact, heard all those rumors and believed in all of them, since he was always taught that the devil was the bad figure of all existences. Akaashi had heard, in fact, all those rumors, but since his stay in the underworld he realized that maybe, but _just maybe_ , all those rumors were false, the devil he met in that place being totally different from the devil portrayed by angels and humans.

“Why are you here? In _my_ kingdom?”

Waiting for Akaashi's answer was proving tiring, your time being precious as your work increased with each birth in the ancient world. You wanted to dispatch the conversation, not really knowing how, failing to predict what direction it might take, Akaashi's curiosity to be something different, something unexpected in an angel as beautiful as he.

“I came on a mission,” there was no reason to lie to you, to hide anything from you. During those two months in your kingdom, Akaashi learned that you could not stand lying and he wanted to try to be as honest as possible; that is, as honest as possible _without_ staining his precious wings. “I came to find out what happens to the wings once they are all stained black.”

A new moment of silence appeared between you, this time his words taking you by surprise. You stared at Akaashi with no expression other than pure bewilderment, the angel's words flying so gently to the safest corners of your office, settling in inappropriate places for words as pure as those.

You stood up abruptly, your eyes seeing nothing but the beautiful figure of Akaashi and, without realizing it, you spoke in a small and prolonged whisper, your voice always so loud and powerful becoming submissive before the information of Akaashi.

“Let me see your wings.”

Akaashi was static for a moment, looking at you and trying to understand if your request was driven by madness, curiosity or simply by your knowledge of the anatomy of the wings. He didn't want to take any chances –after all, he didn't know you at all and he had already heard several stories that addressed your wickedness and malice; but Akaashi had also seen a different side of you, a side that nobody counted or was minimally interested in, even Akaashi was sure that nobody knew that side of you.

And, preferring two months of living with you to centuries of rumors heard about you, Akaashi allowed his wings to tear up his black robes, their whiteness and purity to proudly illuminate your office. They were big and long, your eyes _bet_ they were extremely soft, and the kindness with which they moved in the air while adapting to their original form was of an extremely delicate and beautiful nature, worthy of the most beautiful of angels. You approached Akaashi cautiously, completely mesmerized by the innocence of those white feathers, and, with care and delicacy, you allowed one of your hands to touch Akaashi's feathers and smiled: they were really soft. You gently stroked some feathers from Akaashi's right wing, your smile showing a bit of longing and some sadness was stuck in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.

“You have beautiful wings, _Akaashi_ ,” you had only _one_ rule for yourself and only one rule: you never allowed yourself to treat any soul that inhabited your kingdom by its proper name; for centuries, you have been creating nicknames and baptizing people with new names, all because you believed that no one deserved to have their name stained with your words and voice full of malice. But at that moment, nothing mattered; nothing mattered when you held the softness of pure wings in your hands once again; nothing mattered when their innocence managed to convey a little hope in _that_ world, in _your_ world. “I don't think you have to worry about black wings.”

Akaashi said nothing.

With a quick but calculated movement, he lifted the wing you were caressing, the little black spot standing out in the midst of so much purity and you watched that feather carefully, memories passing quickly through your mind with that simple scenario.

You sighed and slowly returned to your place, standing up, facing Akaashi and, without any use of words, your own wings appeared on your back, tearing up your shirt, exposing themselves in their grandeur. In the beginning, there was an intense and white light, your wings being short but abundant, your two wings endowing them with a simplicity and beauty that made them unique; then, as fast as a lifetime went by, your wings were all stained black, the softness giving light to the harshness, the weight of corruption to be so great that some feathers began to fall.

And in that moment, Akaashi _saw_. Although when they were white they covered their entire length, when black there were empty spaces, tremendous flaws in that picture that could be so beautiful when watched carefully. Your wings showed the weight of deception, the weight of failure. And at that moment, Akaashi _hesitated_.

“It's not as bad as it looks,” you tried to crack a small smile, tried to give a little laugh, but the pain you still felt was strong, taking over your words, your emotions. And you, without wanting to, were already crying. “It's _a lot_ worse.” This time, you managed to laugh, a sound that was once feared by everyone, now it brought regret with it, Akaashi feeling overwhelmed with all that image –everything was happening too fast. Akaashi didn't know how to act.

“You…”

“Yes, I was an angel. Yes, I was the first fallen angel. That part is true at least,” you were ashamed of your wings; not because they are black, because you found beauty in their darkness; not because they are short, because you found tenderness in their shape; but rather because they were less and less when exposed and you _knew_ what would happen when all your feathers fell with the weight of a betrayal unknown to all. “But I _didn't_ make a mistake. I didn't fail! Maybe… Maybe my only mistake was too much devotion. But I _didn't_ deserve my destiny!”

You wanted to continue talking, you wanted to prevent that beautiful angel who was before you, but your suffering spoke louder, suffocating you with a long-awaited cry, the anger you felt for all the angels and archangels to be expressed in yours silent screams that held your heart, that prevented you from feeling anything other than hatred and sadness. You were suffocating in your own feelings, your own pain, and there was no one who cared, there was no one who wanted to know.

There was no one until Akaashi decided to take you in his arms.

Not only did he hug you tightly, protecting your body from all the hatred you could feel in that compartment, he also made use of his delicate nature. Moving gently and a little quickly, Akaashi's wings enveloped you with equal care, giving you a little tranquility in your mind so tormented, sweeping with its movements any and all hesitation that could exist in your anguish.

And the angel _waited_.

Allowing you let go of all the negativity at that moment, Akaashi waited for you to calm down, for you were minimally comfortable to continue that conversation, failing to understand very well what had happened. It was all very fast: your wing display, your words, your hurt. Akaashi had hesitated the whole time, not knowing how to respond, not knowing if he should respond –after all, you were the devil. But, if you were the devil, it means that, at a certain point, _you had been an angel_ , and, if you were choosing among the most diverse souls to carry the weight of purity and generosity, it meant that you, at a certain point, had been kind. It wasn't just that; Akaashi _swore_ that you still held on to your true nature with strength and pride, your little gestures of kindness bringing you tranquility.

Because you, quite simply, had been an angel before you were the devil.

“I didn't do anything,” your voice came out hoarse, overwhelmed by your crying, tired from so many centuries of loneliness and sadness; but at that moment, you didn't feel so alone. “ _I_ did nothing. It's all _his_ fault.”

“ _His_?” Akaashi walked away, curious at your words, a little afraid of what could follow; because, deep down, Akaashi already knew which way that your confession would take.

“ _Your_ boss,” your words were filled with hatred and bitterness, something so distinctive of the character that you had adopted so long ago; your eyes burned with tears, yes, but beyond the glare of sadness, the gleam of hatred reigned, your lips saying clearly and spitefully all the words that followed, showing Akaashi that you remembered perfectly what it had happened centuries ago. “ _Your_ sovereign. The one who drove me out of _your_ world. _Your_ God.”

* * *

**RUMORS HEARD BY _GOD_** **:** **in which god told his secret.**

In the beginning, God was not called God.

Before the beginning of all things, God had a name, a single word that was spoken with satisfaction and respect for all the souls that inhabited the heavenly world. To match his unparalleled beauty, God was called _Atsumu_ , a name so unique and unusual, a heavenly magic to hold on to every different pronunciation, a streak of hope and forgiveness stuck in every syllable of that name he adopted, that name that _you gave him_.

Yes, because in the beginning, God only had you.

Before the beginning of all things, God created you, the most beautiful soul that would ever exist. For long eternities you had been the only company of God, your presence to make God grow, your nature so unpredictable to make God always curious about you. For, even though you were a creation of God, he could not unravel you. You were _unique_ , even in a universe where only darkness, God and you existed. You were _different_ , even in a universe where only obscurity, kindness and curiosity existed. And, because you stand out from all the darkness and light, God idolized you, the master to become the student, an immense desire to satisfy you to take care of him.

Your relationship with God was complex, a mutual respect and admiration to be born as natural as the first star, as God's first gift to you. You captivated God with your words, speeches on subjects yet to be studied to entice God to wanting to know more about them, to wanting to show that you were right or to prove you were wrong. And after the first star, the first planet appeared. Small creations arise after your arrival in the universe, the need to complete you moving the hands of God, no plan to pass in his mind beyond that curious look and your lips dyed by malice.

You were darkness before God and goodness after him. You were the fall of God, the prevailing darkness. And he knew it, and he _feared you_ for it. For from the moment you decided to name God, your lips contained all the power to destroy the universe.

 _Atsumu_ never sounded so melodious when pronounced by you, and God knew. It was the way your lips moved perfectly, the way only you got it right when you pronounced the name, the way a smile always stuck after saying God's name. _Atsumu_. God was afraid of you, God was afraid of the power that he had offered you, by allowing you to create a new word that portrayed God. _Atsumu_. That should be a forbidden word, even a bad word, all the power that that simple word contained was extremely dangerous for you, for God, _for the universe_.

But Atsumu always forgot his fear every time a new creation was requested by you. After so many stars and constellations, entire galaxies housed planets and colorful, gloomy clouds and stars that adorned what was once only darkness and emptiness; there was water and trees on your favorite planet, flames and ices in the spheres that proved you wrong. You questioned Atsumu and Atsumu answered you by creating all your doubts and provocations. You were the cause of all creations.

Perhaps _if_ Atsumu hadn’t let himself be dazzled by you, he would have realized all the malice that was hidden beneath your angelic words.

It was only a matter of time before other beings were created, the celestial world to be home to so many beautiful creatures. Angels and archangels, souls too pure to be placed in the far reaches of the universe, various creatures so beautiful and imaginary became your friends, a vast network of family members being formed from the moment you confessed to Atsumu that only two souls could not control the immensity of existence.

You wanted an activity that occupied you now that all possible creations had already seen the light of God. You wanted something that would make you as curious and happy as questioning Atsumu. You wanted to continue to have some power, even by subduing yourself to God. As such, and always thinking of satisfying you, _Atsumu created humans_. Souls without any experience of the universe were scattered across the most diverse planets, teams of angels to be deployed to different parts of the universe, Atsumu making you the one in charge of leading them all, because, being you Atsumu's right hand for all eternities, it was just natural for you to be _the first guardian angel_ and the one who commanded all the others.

Yes, it was hard work, quite complicated even, all your attention focusing on angels and humans, endless stacks of resumes and information flooding your dark and welcoming office. It was complicated, yes, but Atsumu was always by your side. Atsumu was in charge of guiding you, helping you to understand when a human needed help and when it was the right time for angels to stop following those lost souls. Entire generations were spent in each other's company, nothing changing for when it was just you, God, and darkness.

Atsumu has become the God of all existing creations and you have become the guide for all souls in the universe.

And you were happy. Engaged in tasks and with news to emerge as the creatures evolved, you and Atsumu were happy. The universe was in harmony. Guided by the wisdom of so many pure souls, there was no disorder or malice in existence. _Kindness prevailed_. Of all the times that a mistake was made and assumed, Atsumu forgave and you guided the right path to that soul. Everything was perfect. Everything was good. Everything was light.

But _nothing_ lasts.

Akaashi Keiji was a human like any other, with the only difference that Akaashi carried on his shoulders an overwhelming weight of a life guided by tired angels. So many guardian angels had taken charge of Akaashi, all of them giving up on seeing his simplicity, realizing that, in reality, Akaashi did not need them, all of them believing that the young human was well on his own. And so many angels neglected Akaashi that even the human himself began to neglect himself.

For where the light of angels does not shine, _darkness prevails_.

And you knew. You heard about Akaashi's situation, you studied Akaashi's situation, you became interested in Akaashi's story. You wanted to help him. It was obvious that you wanted to help him, you were an angel – _a guardian angel_. As such, you spent endless times in the comfort of your office, papers and plans running through your hands and minds at such a speed that it resembled the speed with which rumors flew in the celestial world.

Rumors that were _heard by God_.

For you never directly took care of any soul –you didn't have time for that. And, between whispers and sighs, it was with such speed that the novelty of your new project reached Atsumu's ears. You hadn't told him anything; why bother the supreme sovereign with a mere human? And maybe that was your mistake. For in the existence of goodness there will always be malice. Angels were the most gossipy beings in the heavenly world; spending eternities getting to know each other and unraveling their own secrets, it was always fun to cover their curiosity to worlds beyond the sovereign –and in that decade, you were the chosen one.

And Atsumu heard.

Stories of how you allowed yourself to be bewitched by a human roamed the most beautiful lips of angels, phrases filled with wickedness and malice roamed the corridors of the celestial world, theories and conspiracies about how Akaashi was as beautiful as you being the foundation of the belief that you were, in fact, in love with the human.

And Atsumu heard. He didn’t forget. He didn’t forgive.

For on that fateful day, when you finally managed to lead Akaashi on the path of kindness, Atsumu called for you, promises of gifts and happiness to entice you to believe in your God, in his always so selfless and kind nature.

And it was with a belief in that temporary goodness that you were corrupt.

Atsumu was _envious_ of Akaashi. Atsumu _just wanted_ you for him. There was no one more _beautiful_ than Atsumu; he was the god himself, his soul and figure to be simply sublime! So, why did you choose the human? Why didn't you see Atsumu like he saw you? Why didn't you want Atsumu like _he wanted you_? Had Atsumu neglected your soul? Had Atsumu taken your existence for granted and simply let the _laziness_ of taking care of you overwhelm him? Had God failed? No. Impossible. God never fails, God is always right. It had been you. You allowed a soul as dirty as Akaashi's to corrupt your heart with the beauty of his figure. You were the one who allowed the malice of humans to entice you to give your heart to another soul that was not God's. Yes, Atsumu was certain that you were the cause of all the destruction. And so, Atsumu was consumed with _anger_. And as he _devoured_ everything in front of him, Atsumu stained your wings with the black of the ink he used to create the universe, with the ink that you had offered him at the beginning of all things.

And when he saw you disappear into the blackness of your wings, Atsumu vowed never to forgive. Seeing you screaming for justifications and explanations, Atsumu vowed never to love anyone again. Seeing the black ink clinging to your wings and clothes, Atsumu vowed never to use the name you had given him again. And when he saw you pleading for forgiveness and falling worlds and universes into the underworld, God swore never to remember you.

Therefore, God now looked at you in full shock, your black clothes and wings forcing the mind of God to remember your entire history, your entire destruction.

You had changed. You were no longer an angel. Your eyes stopped adopting that color that so mesmerized God, only to be dyed by the burning of infinite tears that slid away whenever you remembered God; your delicate and ever-present smile was now nonexistent, no curve in your lips showed the kindness you once had; and your wings… the wings that God loved to do the most, the wings that God gave the most pleasure to create, were now practically nonexistent: all the feathers were black, some were torn, others were struggling to stay strong, and others to let go of you with weariness, black dust to beautify the carpet of God every time one of your feathers hit strongly with the purity of the celestial world. You were different. You had changed, but your posture was still immense, filling an entire room with your energy: however, what was once light and goodness, was now shadows of a past wrapped in betrayal and destruction.

“He made me come,” you crossed your arms when a small provocative smile was drawn on your lips, your dirty finger pointing at Akaashi. And God looked at his angel.

Yes, God swore never to remember you again, but the feeling of your loss corrupted God's heart, a paradisiacal nostalgia for eternity to compel God to do something he had never done before, something he didn’t even think of doing: moved by guilt, guided by anguish, God failed to toast Akaashi's soul with a body, taking him to the celestial world and making him the angel he was now. Perhaps with Akaashi's presence beside him, God was able to alleviate the sin that no one knew he had committed.

“I want the truth,” Akaashi had also changed. In just two months, Akaashi changed. His soul was still beautiful, in fact, but the white glow that the angel once emanated was now dyed by black rays from his stay in the underworld, characteristics that were forbidden to angels to show their presence in the small black feather that Akaashi now showed proudly.

“ _The truth_?” God laughed and rested his body on the desk, arms crossed, eyes sparkling to show that he feared nothing. After all, nobody knew about his secret and you couldn't prove the authenticity of your words. “The truth is, the _Devil_ betrayed me.”

You clenched your fists to contain your anger. With what right did God return to baptize you with a name as unhappy as that? With what right had God stained a whole past of hope and light just to corrupt it with a single name? A single word. _Devil_. It should be a forbidden word, even a bad word; but God made that word so banal, so common, so _feared_.

“True. I once ate a pomegranate without calling him,” your sigh was caught by the raising of God's eyebrow. Had that been sarcasm? Did you acquire a new feature? God didn't remember you like that. God didn't remember you at all. At least, that was what he would always say.

“You know perfectly well what you did. Don't make a fool of me and don't deceive my subordinate,” this time it was God who sighed and looked reproachfully at his best angel. “You should know that the Devil's words are tinted with wickedness.”

“Funny,” an empty smile carved gently on your lips as you approached the office shelf, “you used to like my words, _Atsumu_.”

“Atsumu?” Akaashi looked at God with some confusion, the look that the God used to be worthy of the devil himself, intense anger burning in Atsumu's golden pearls, his pursed lips showing that words were being kept in God's throat. “Is that your real name?”

“No.”

"Yes," you replied at the same time as Atsumu, your voice sounding louder than that of the god himself, the false delicacy and naivety of your response encouraging Akaashi to look at you. “I gave it that name. Pretty cute, isn't it?”

Your laugh installed silence in that office.

You sounded like Atsumu remembered, you sounded like God wanted to forget. A single laugh. Of all that you could do, you had to laugh, to release that sound that Atsumu loved so much, to unlock memories that God swore to forget. With what audacity? With what power did you laugh? With what tenderness?

“What do you really want, Y/N?”

“Oh?” you turned your heels around to face Atsumu, eternities in the underworld making themselves felt in the malice of your words, in the provocation of your smile. “I haven't heard that name in ages! I see that the matter is serious.”

“I don't have all eternity.”

“Very well,” you walked back to the celestials, your arm resting gently on Akaashi's shoulder as you looked Atsumu in the eyes. Red and gold met for eternal moments, a multitude of anguish and anger running through your eyes. “I want you to tell me word by word what I did to get kicked out of here.”

Your lips tinged with evil, a smile and words so perverse that Atsumu, for a moment, faltered. You weren't the devil for anything. But Atsumu took his position as God and moved away from the secretary, eyes always fixed on yours, always straight and tall. And, without any thought or regret, Atsumu made his voice sound loud and powerful, the whole division to be filled with the belief of a betrayal, with a secret about to be unveiled.

“You betrayed my trust by being interested in him,” a simple nod was enough for Akaashi to realize that the angel was the one Atsumu mentioned.

You had told Akaashi about your last mission, how you knew he was an angel when his disguise was immaculate. You told how it was you who guided Akaashi along the paths of goodness in his first life and how you gave decades of your existence to the study of the human. So, it was not surprising that Akaashi heard the mention of his soul in the conversation; what really took the angel by surprise was how God had used his soul in conversation. Akaashi didn't remember any betrayal in your story.

“So you are telling me that I, an guardian angel, the angel of all angels, shouldn't have helped a lost soul? I thought that was why you called us _angels_. ”

“You let him corrupt you,” and that was when the confusion settled in you. All your confidence, all your provocation, dissipated when Atsumu uttered those words so boringly, as if that story had already been told for a lifetime. Another sigh was lost in the office when Atsumu noticed your face, your confusion, tiredness and pain moving the rest of God's words. “You let his physical beauty entice you. You let his charms move you. You fell in love with him.”

“No…”

“Yes.”

“No!” Akaashi shuddered with your roar, darkness rising from your wings, flooding an entire office, staining all the purity there. The angel turned away from you, small drops of your anger painting irregular patterns on his wings; Atsumu remained quiet, showing his position with a firm and strong look. “Where did that come from? How did you think I was going to be interested in a mere human? Atsumu, I was an angel!”

“A corrupt angel.”

“Don't forget that I am your fruit. _If I'm corrupt, so are you_.”

Silence.

Darkness.

Anguish.

“How did you fall into his charms?” Atsumu insisted on an unfounded truth, a simple rumor that wandered farther than it should have. And you could not stand to hear your existence being defamed by the very soul that created you, an anger giving way to disgust, anguish turning to suffering.

“I didn't fall for anything! Akaashi was just a human who needed help. You know that, Atsumu. Stop being blinded by rumors without any truth! Akaashi needed clarity and comfort and I gave it to him. I was an angel. My job was to help.”

Atsumu did not answer.

Akaashi frantically fanned his wings in an attempt to release the darkness from his wings, all the angel's attention focused on his own vanity, forgetting what brought him to the celestial world prematurely. But darkness prevailed in Akaashi's soft and beautiful feathers; black and sticky, your centuries of suffering and discrimination were spread across the office with Akaashi's aggressive flapping of wings, clinging to every purity and ingenuity and corrupting them to black.

“We spent eternities together. _You created me_. Do you really think I would be corrupted?”

“And you didn't?”

Atsumu did not know when to shut up. Since he was the God, it was easy to lose the feeling of humility in a conversation. But Atsumu forgot that he was talking to the devil and, above all, he forgot that he was talking to _you_. And, in a new wave of anger and despair, anguish escaped you, crawling through the office door, staining all kindness beyond the comfort of those four walls.

“Because of you! Because you sent me down there,” you spat your words with hatred and disgust, high-pitched screams shaking an entire kingdom, your pain being known to all. “You created me and I was loyal to you! I've always been with you. I helped you create your empire. I supported you. I helped you. I _loved_ you, Atsumu!”

Your confession reached Atsumu with the last gust of wind provided by Akaashi. Tinging his superior with the power of destruction created by you for centuries in the shadows of the universe, the angel stopped fighting, allowing the softness of his wings to take on a new shine, a new essence, a new courage when Akaashi began to descend through the universe, sending him without any warning to the underworld. Screams of anguish and terror flooded the corridors while all the betrayal of God consumed the various creatures, the unveiling of the greatest secret of God to bring with it all the destruction he feared, all the destruction that Atsumu knew you would bring to the universe.

 _The heavenly world has ceased to exist_.

With your eyes fixed on the figure of Atsumu, you allowed your loneliness to take over the entire upper world. Darkness and emptiness haunted every corner of what was once pure light and goodness, no creature to stand upright to fight against you, no soul to be pure to prevent you from consuming and corrupting everything your anguish touched. And Atsumu remained silent staring at you as he saw you conquer his entire kingdom, your confession still resonating so loudly and vividly in his mind, everything around him becoming darkness and pain, just a mere reflection of the heart of the former sovereign.

For moved by betrayal, blinded by pain, enticed by vengeance, you have conquered all worlds and kingdoms, uniting all worlds and existence in your anguish and malice without any permission or request. While Atsumu watched you burn all his creations, all _your_ creations, with black flames, he approached you slowly, the use of that word so strong still sounding so strong within the ancient God.

 _You loved him_. He had been loved. He had been loved _by you_.

But even before Atsumu reached you, even before his hand managed to touch your face one last time, as in the past, you denied the love of your creator. With red eyes emanating revolt, with black wings falling and leaving you naked like your soul, you simply sent Atsumu to the ancient underworld, now an eternal prison for those who betrayed you and will come to betray you. For in that instant, in that moment after unwrapping the truth, you emerged the whole world in your eternal suffering, no forgiveness on your lips to be noticed when you spoke your new name like a roar of a storm.

In that new world of yours, in that new universe of yours, you would show everyone why you are called _the Devil_.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find this work on my tumblr (sam-writs) and please be gentle ahah it was a long ride this one


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